


Untitled Noir Fill

by pasiphile



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: F/M, ficathon fill, noir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 05:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasiphile/pseuds/pasiphile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Venetian blinds were a problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Noir Fill

The Venetian blinds were a problem. She wanted them half-shut, but they kept slipping. So either the room was pitch dark or flooded with light, and what was the  _point_ of Venetian blinds if you couldn't get that shadowy atmosphere?  
  
At least she had the desk, and the plaque. And the hat! She looked  _amazing_ in the hat. Pity she couldn't wear it inside, it would give her that immediate I'm-a-private-eye vibe she was looking for. People never seemed to take her seriously. But the hat was definitely a step in the right direction.  
  
And a secretary, she had one of those too. Even if George would probably kill her if she referred to him as anything else than personal assistant. Alright, maybe not actually kill, but shout and stammer and use words she didn't understand but were probably insults.  
  
Someone knocked.  
  
'Come in,' Annie said in her best mysterious voice.  
  
George poked his head around the door and she rolled her eyes. 'Oh, it's you.'   
  
'Ye-es, it's me, no need to sound so  _disappointed_.'  
  
'George, I didn't mean it like that! But you know I need a client or I'll – '  
  
'Then today's your lucky day. There's someone asking for you.'  
  
'What? Who?' She leaned sideways and tried to catch a glimpse of the visitor.  
  
George shrugged. 'A man. Didn't say anything, just asked for Miss Sawyer. Do you want to see him?'  
  
'Of course I want to see him George,' Annie hissed. 'Go, hurry! Before he leaves again!'  
  
George gave a long-suffering sigh and closed the door. Annie quickly pushed her hair back, folded her hands in front of her and put on a serious face. At least, she hoped it was a serious face.  
  
A man, asking for her  _by name_. Even if it was only another cat she had to find, it would pay. And maybe she could charm whoever it was, get just a little –   
  
The door opened. The man stepped inside. Annie's jaw hit the floor.  
  
Typical George not to mention that her potential client was drop-dead  _gorgeous_. A tall, dark, handsome stranger, come to her for help, it was almost too good to be true.  
  
'Miss Sawyer?'  
  
Oh dear Lord that voice. 'Yes?' she said, only it came out at least an octave too high. The corner of the man's mouth quirked upwards and Annie felt her cheeks heat up. She cleared her throat and tried again. 'Yes, that's me. And you are?' There, that sounded more professional.  
  
'John Mitchell.'   
  
Annie stood up to shake hands and yelped as her hand touched his. 'Oh! Er, cold hands.'  
  
'Yeah, you're not the first to say that,' he said, smile turning wry.  
  
'Please, sit down.'  
  
John Mitchell sat down. No, he didn't just sit down, he  _sprawled_ , and Annie could feel her cool starting to evaporate.  
  
'So, Mr. Mitchell,' she said, leaning forward. 'How can I be of service?'  
  
'I think someone wants to kill me.'  
  
Okay. Definitely not lost cats then. 'I see,' she said slowly.  
  
'There's this girl, Lia... Look, it's a bit of a - ' He frowned. 'A weird situation. But word on the street is you're okay with weird?'  
  
Annie smiled. 'Oh, trust me Mr. Mitchell,  _weird_ \- ' She closed her eyes, concentrated, and rent-a-ghosted behind him. He whirled around in surprise. '- is not a problem for me.'  
  
'Mitchell,' he said, licking his lips.  
  
'Sorry?'  
  
'Just Mitchell. Not Mr.'  
  
'Oh. Okay,  _Mitchell_.' She walked back to her desk, very aware of the way he was looking at her. 'So someone wants to kill you. Why didn't you go the police?'  
  
'The police and me don't get on. Anyway, someone is leaving me messages. Death threats.'  
  
'I see.'  
  
He told her his story. It wasn't a very nice story, but then again, when were they?  
  
'Can you help me, Miss Sawyer?'  
  
'I think I can. In fact, I'm starting on it right now.'   
  
Mitchell stood up. Annie put on her coat and, with an elegant little swish of her wrist, her hat. Mitchell grinned.  
  
'Nice hat,' he said, holding the door open for her.  
  
'Thanks.'  
  
'Leaving, then?' George asked from behind his desk, pointedly not looking up.   
  
'Mr. Mi – oh, sorry.' She turned to her client with a smile. ' _Mitchell_ here is our new client. This is George, my sec- my personal assistant.'  
  
Mitchell nodded and left. Annie watched him go.  
  
'He's dangerous, Annie,' George said seriously.  
  
'I know. Isn't it exciting?'  
  
She tilted her hat forward and left her office.


End file.
